His shoulders ached and he was tired of answering questions, but Chris, as usual, was not tired of asking them.

"So, where were you last night? We waited for freakin' ever."

Justin turned around on the ladder, but instead of looking at Chris, he let his eyes search the floor for Mrs. Gordon, the senior class advisor. She had her back to him now and was pointing at something near the door to the girls' locker room. If he could just get her to nod in his direction, he could go home. It was Sunday, so he shouldn't have been at school at all, but it was also the week of Homecoming. The cheerleaders had 48 hours to transform the campus into someone's idea of heaven and they needed all the help they could get.

But there was more to it than that. It was hard to explain, and in the grand scheme of things, it was probably a very small miracle, but something about Homecoming at Red Rock changed people. Girls who had gone punk in ninth grade wore green and gold ribbon in their hair and guys who cut class every day at lunch to go to the drag strip, were there when the bell rang. Mrs. Jasper, the librarian, made her own contribution by declaring Senior Amnesty Week and each day the return slot overflowed with The Old Man and the Sea and Elements of Art and all other books that seniors still had in their lockers from freshman year. Justin had experienced the phenomenon firsthand. In the parking lot on Friday, when Alex McLean had asked him what time to show up to get a good seat at the game, it was the first time he had spoken to Justin since junior high.

It wasn't magic, but there was just something about it, and even six months ago, Justin wouldn't have believed that Homecoming wouldn't be the most important thing in his life when it finally arrived. But now it wasn't, and he just wanted to put in his time and be done with it.

He'd already had two fingers in his mouth to whistle when he remembered that Mrs.Gordon hated it, so he just leaned back against the wall and waited. From where he stood, Justin could see how much work had been done and how much was still left to do. The gym had never looked bigger. One of the custodians was just pushing the last of the bleachers against the wall. That same custodian had spent a good part of the morning raising hell with the seniors about the mice that had been let loose at the end of the last assembly. Chris had never said anything about it, but Justin was pretty sure that he'd been in on it. Mr. Stevens had gone on and on and Chris had burrowed his face into Justin's back, trying not to laugh. The scolding had finally ended with Mr. Stevens calling the gym at Red Rock a sacred place. He'd made everyone take off their shoes before he'd let them cross the newly polished floor.

It wasn't the first time that Justin had heard the speech, the one about the gym being hallowed ground. The coach acted the same way when they horsed around at practice. A loose ball would bounce too high and knick one of the team pictures. It didn't matter why it happened or who touched the ball last. Everyone had to run. It was about respect, he said, one teammate for another, one team for all the other teams that had gone before them..

Justin let his eyes drift to the poster-sized pictures at the north end of the gym. He'd never wanted anything more in his life than to have his own picture there, to be a varsity basketball player at Red Rock High. From the day he stepped on campus, that had been his goal, to wear the green and gold jacket only a varsity player was allowed to wear. The picturess had been taken just after the season ended. So much about him had changed since then. The shaven head and desperately serious eyes were both gone and there was a scar now, above his right eye, a souvenir from a flag football game he wasn't supposed to play in last spring. At senior pictures, the photographer had wanted to airbrush it away, but Justin had not let him do it. It had seemed wrong to make a part of him disappear simply because someone else thought he'd be better off that way.

He reached up and for a moment traced the crescent shape with his fingers, then ran his hand through the short curls that had grown in so much darker this time around. His mother had mentioned the change in color, asking if he'd done something to it on his own. It wasn't such a strange notion. He'd dyed it once in eighth grade when everyone else was doing it, a two-tone blonde and brown that had made his mother wince, but he'd done nothing to it this time. It just wasn't blonde anymore.

Chris's voice grew suddenly loud again.

"Timberlake! Are you listening to me at all? I got stuck in a chick flick because of you."

When he got no response, Chris kicked playfully at a pair of scissors, sending them across the gym floor, then broke into an abbreviated end zone dance when they rebounded off the work box, clipping one of the Sugarman Twins as she walked by. Justin had probably seen that dance a hundred times since they first met, but watching it now made it seem like yesterday. Trace had been waiting dutifully that afternoon to say that a new guy in Biology was putting the moves on Justin's girl. They were lab partners, Trace said, and all they ever did was laugh. There was nothing funny about dissecting a fetal pig and Lily had never really laughed all that much before, but she was laughing now with the guy named Chris and that had to be a bad sign. So the next day Justin had waited outside the science building to check out the competition. Trace had been right. The new guy did make Lily laugh. He had also made Justin laugh. They were friends before Justin knew what had hit him.

Justin stared down at Chris as he bowled a roll of masking tape toward a pile of discarded newspaper and celebrated again when the target exploded. They were still the best of friends, but Lily Jessup wasn't laughing much anymore and not even Chris could do anything to change that.

She'd been part of almost every important thing Justin had ever done, but she wasn't right for him.

And he was pretty sure now that there was someone else who was.

~

He'd missed the movie allright and had absolutely nothing to show for it. He'd been so sure that he had the words in his head, that he knew exactly what he wanted to say, then he'd simply lost his nerve. It should have been a slam dunk, but he couldn't go through with it, not until he was sure. It was too important not to get it right. And getting it right, wanting to get it right, was everything.

It was also completely new.

Justin had never been through that part of it, the anxiety phase of dating, wondering if a girl thought of him as more than a friend. In grade school the girls had been sweet on him before he knew why, shy smiles at the water fountain after recess, shared cookies he had never asked for. Lily had been his first and only real girlfriend. He had kissed her on a dare on Trace's twelfth birthday. The girls in Mrs. Sommer's fifth grade class had passed notes about it for weeks. It was still the talk of Oak Street Elementary when school got out for the summer.

Justin had liked being the center of attention, but the kiss itself had been no big deal. At least not to him. He'd kissed Lily Jessup because he knew he could do it. He would try and she would let him. There'd been no risk to it at all, no thought that it might not go exactly the way he planned it. He'd been right. In the end, it had been no different than crossing Myers' Dam in winter, when the water level was low and the lilypads had shriveled to half their size, when there were no bloated frogs making sudden leaps like they did in summer, throwing him off balance, making his heart race with fear and wonder.

In the six years that followed, nothing about their relationship had changed. Justin had never once doubted himself, never wondered, even for a moment, where he fit in Lily Jessup's universe. Or where she fit in his.

But this was nothing like that at all.

He'd been staring at Myer's Dam again in all its treacherous glory, uncertain for the first time in his life that he could get across without falling. He hadn't actually been to the dam in years, but it made no difference to him now. On Saturday night, he'd been there again, had felt it. But it wasn't winter this time. It was summer and the water was rushing in his ears, dragging everything perilously close to the edge. This was no dare, no one was egging him on, taunting him. He had wanted this for himself. And not just to kiss.

To be kissed.

The realization had hit him like a blast of cold air and he'd been unable to move. There were random pools of light in the parking lot at the Powerhouse Gym and out of habit, Justin had pulled into one of them. When he finally got out of the car, he'd felt exposed, an open book that anyone walking by could read at will.

It wasn't like he had never been there before. There were only two gyms in Red Rock and at one time or another he had been inside both of them. He smiled to himself as he remembered the last time he'd been to Powerhouse. He was still in Scouts, the summer of seventh grade. The gym was new then and they'd taken a tour as part of one of their projects. It was a Saturday just like this one and Justin hadn't wanted to go. He couldn't imagine why anyone would want to spend an entire Saturday morning indoors when they could be out playing dodge ball or riding bikes. It was the same summer he'd discovered basketball. And video games. And that he and Lily Jessup were considered a couple, that people said their names together like they were one.

Now he was back and this time wanted nothing more than to go inside, to have a reason to be there, an excuse that would shield him from the truth.

What it was that he really wanted. Who he wanted.

Since freshman year, Chris Kirkpatrick had complained non-stop that the boys' locker room at Red Rock High was too crowded. Construction on the weight room had made things even worse. Over the summer there'd been a coin toss and Chris had crowed triumphantly when it was announced that water polo, not cross country, would have to find another place to work out. Without that tiny bit of information, Justin might never have known where to look.

He had seen JC Chasez again the first day of school, but had been too freaked out to talk to him. By the time he got his act together, Justin's AP English class had been split in two and the rest of his classes juggled. Since then, he'd seen JC only once, by his car in the upper parking lot.

He had not been alone.

That same black mustang had been in the parking lot at Powerhouse when Justin drove by on Saturday night. He'd circled the block twice trying to make up his mind what to do. By then it was too late to make it to the movie, so he'd come back and waited, pulling into the parking lot with no plan at all, no safety net of excuses to explain what he was doing there on a Saturday night, sans best friend and girlfriend and anything else that had once made sense in his life.

The door to the gym had opened and closed twice and two girls he recognized from school had walked by, but still he'd made no move to go inside. He had finally talked himself into it, gotten out of the car and closed half the distance to the gym door when out of nowhere, a single bead of sweat had escaped, trailing down his back to the waistband of his jeans. It had felt like a knife cutting into his skin. He had literally run back to his car.

At home, he hadn't bothered to turn on the lights in his room. Instead he'd laid on the bed, smothering his face with a pillow. The phone had rung a couple of times, but he didn't bother to answer. He needed to talk, but this wasn't something that he could count on even Chris to understand.

Not when he hardly understood it himself.

~

There was a sudden roar in the gym as Beth Sugarman lost control of a massive bouquet of balloons that then drifted uselessly to the ceiling. Mrs. Gordon threw her hands in the air and turned suddenly in Justin's direction. He waved to get her attention, then pointed quickly at the wall. She looked past him to where the last panel of painted paper met the water fountain, then gave him an enthusiastic thumbs up. At that same moment, a group of girls walked by and glared at him, then went out of their way to smile at Chris, making sure he saw them. Chris followed them with his eyes, then looked back at Justin as he jumped past the last few rungs of the ladder to the floor.

"Those chicks wouldn't spit on me if I was on fire. What’s going on?"

Justin turned back to the ladder, leaning it against the wall.

"I told Lily that she should go to Homecoming with someone else."

Chris dropped the crepe paper he'd been winding around his hand, then turned quickly, trying to recover before it rolled halfway across the gym floor. Instead he bumped head-on into a girl who'd been rushing to catch up with the group that had just passed by. Chris smiled, but she looked away. He mumbled a quick apology, then turned back to Justin whose own eyes were on the floor.

"Okay. That one completely ignored me and I'm pretty sure it was someone who talks to me all the time. What am I missing here?"

Justin shook his head.

"I just told you. She deserves to be with someone who feels the same way she does."

Chris had just started to say 'about what' when a second group of girls walked by. This time they smiled. At Justin. Chris raised his eyebrows and let out a long whistle.

"Wow, word travels fast. They already know you’re back on the market."

Justin pulled at the zipper on his jacket and then turned toward the door.

"I’m not on the market."

He took two steps, then turned back. At that moment, his eyes were the darkest blue Chris could ever remember seeing them. They looked bottomless, as if any emotion, real or imagined, could find a place to hide.

"It's no different for me.. It's my last Homecoming too. I want to be with someone. Someone who's right for me."

~

The decorating had been done by noon, but the Kafka essay had taken forever and Justin had promised his mother that he'd work on college applications when he was done. Chris had called twice, wanting him to look at a car he was thinking about buying, a '69 Nova with a loud muffler and an even louder stereo. Justin had finally given in, but a few minutes had turned into a few hours and the next thing he knew, it was getting dark and he still hadn't studied for the chapter test in French.

It was 8:30 when he finally turned into the parking lot at the Powerhouse Gym, fully prepared to do what he had wanted to do the night before. It was completely deserted. The lights in the gym were still on and the equipment glistened silently, but there were no people anywhere. Justin checked his watch, then slumped in his seat. It was Sunday. The gym closed at seven on Sundays. He'd never even thought about it. Tears welled in his eyes and he pounded the steering wheel in frustration.

He sat for another five minutes, cursing himself, before finally pulling away.

-::-

Chris had been right about one thing. Word spread fast at Red Rock. By Monday at snack, Justin had had two other offers to go to the dance and one of the cheerleaders who'd waved and winked the day before was now making it known that she was still available. It wasn't at all like Justin had expected it to be. For some reason, everyone assumed that it was Lily who had changed her mind.

Even Joey who'd been bragging for a week that he was taking the hot, new freshman to the dance was peppering Justin with questions. When the passing bell rang, he offered to take her to the dance himself, so that Justin wouldn't have to worry about someone else doing it. Justin had just looked at him blankly, then picked up his backpack and headed for the middle of the quad without ever saying a word.

Chris rolled his eyes as Justin walked away.

"You're an idiot, Fatone. Lily didn't dump Justin. It was the other way around."

Joey raised his eyebrows in surprise, then balled the red popcorn bag he'd been holding and arched it toward the trash can, missing as he did every day, by a good two feet. It was a routine that Chris knew well. Joey had not made a single shot in three years, yet everyday he did exactly the same thing. The bell would ring and he would shoot. Then Lance would scoop up the paper ball and pass it back to Joey for another shot. He would miss again and they would continue across the quad passing and shooting until they hit the senior lawn. There Lance would drop the bag in the last can available and they would go their separate ways.

Joey stood around waiting for Lance to begin their daily routine, but Lance didn't move. He was staring at Chris, his head cocked to one side like he'd heard a sound he didn't quite recognize.

"It was Justin?"

Chris nodded and Lance narrowed his eyes. When the tardy bell rang and he started to walk away, Chris took hold of his arm.

"What?

Lance shook him off, then called over his shoulder as he walked toward the library.

"Nothing. Monday Night Football at my house. Bring money."

Chris stared after him for a minute, then scooped up the popcorn bag and dropped it in the trash before following Joey across the quad.

~

The lights went out and Justin slid down in his seat, grateful for one of the movies Mr. Deal showed the day a paper was due. He'd outgrown the desks at school halfway through his sophomore year, so he could never get comfortable enough to actually fall asleep, but today things were different. Like everyone else, he'd been up most of the night, but this time he hadn't been writing. He'd been thinking.

He'd never told Lily that he wouldn't take her to the dance. But he'd said something even worse, that he didn't love her anymore. He wasn't even sure now that he'd ever been in love because he thought he might be now and it was something totally different. Something that was, this time, exactly like he'd expected it to be.

Frightening. And completely unforgettable.



He'd taken the job at the water park knowing he'd have to give it up once basketball started up again. It was spring and he was still in school, but they'd expected him to start right away. That meant coming in after practice without any chance to go home and eat, or to even change clothes. The park closed at seven, but it was nine before Justin could leave. After that he'd hit the gym, then pick up something to eat, all before ever looking at his homework.

A month into the new routine, he was sick.

He'd spent the last hour of practice that day talking himself into staying home, then had gone to work anyway. It occurred to him even now that if he'd chosen to call in that day, everything in his life would still be the same. Everything.

He'd been in the locker room only long enough to step out of his jeans and blow his nose for what seemed like the hundredth time that day when he heard someone say his name. The voice wasn't particularly loud, but it had still startled him, and he'd dropped his keys. Then when he'd bent down to pick them up, he'd dropped his glasses and then the keys slipped away again and the whole thing became so ridiculous that he'd started laughing. And coughing. The noise had echoed so loudly in the tiled room that he'd expected at least a disapproving glance when he finally rounded the corner in search of the person who'd called to him.

It didn't happen.

The voice belonged to a lifeguard that Justin had never seen before. He must have gotten there early because he'd already changed into the red trunks that all the lifeguards wore and was pulling a Salt Creek t-shirt over his head when Justin walked up. He'd smiled briefly, then grabbed a towel and started for the door that led to the pool.

“Jack’s wife went into labor. You’re with me today.“

Justin let his mind race. Jack had been training him, but Justin had only been there a few weeks and knew nothing about Jack's personal life at all. Rings weren't allowed unless you were married, but he hadn't really noticed if Jack wore one. He'd been too busy trying to keep up. Justin was a quick study and Jack had been letting him do things he shouldn't have been doing for at least another month. Without Jack there, Justin would be treated like the rookie he was and probably spend the next four hours trying to stay out this guy's way, or worse yet, be farmed out to the kiddie pool or the cabana. He wouldn't learn anything new and it would be a complete waste of time, time he could use studying for finals. And he really was sick.

He'd almost convinced himself to say exactly that, that he was sick and going home, when the other lifeguard stopped by the time clock, draping the towel he'd been carrying over one shoulder. His hair was much longer than Justin had first realized. It was neatly trimmed, but a little wild and definitely beyond the collar-length that was allowed at the park. He was wearing rings too and a necklace. Only a watch was supposedly part of the uniform. Justin looked again at his hand as he punched in. The rings there were silver, more ornate than a wedding band and definitely on the wrong finger. He had looked too young to be married, but then so had Jack and Jack had had more than just jewelry to talk about. He'd had tattoos and an eyebrow that had been pierced. If this guy was anything like Jack, he probably had something to hide below his tan line too.

At that very moment, the other lifeguard turned back and Justin felt himself blush. There was no way that he could have known what Justin was thinking, but he was embarrassed anyway, for suddenly wanting to know what was under the red trunks that he'd seen on every other lifeguard, every other day since he'd started working there. He'd never even looked at Jack's trunks, but the ones in front of him now were mesmerizing. They looked loose, like they could easily slide down, and suddenly that was all Justin could think about.

It wasn't like he hadn't seen a strange dick before. He'd been in locker rooms most of his life and nobody escaped that environment without getting their pants pulled down, at least once. It had happened to Justin his first year at Red Rock. It was a rite of passage, made you part of the team, a prank meant more for amusement than embarrassment. Nobody did it because they wanted to see what was underneath.

This was different and he felt that difference, low in his groin.

Justin forced a few quick breaths. The image of what was under those trunks had moved from his brain to his cock in record time and he needed a replacement picture fast, something a lot less stimulating. He took the first thing he could think of anf focused on it: old Roger Chillingworth, picking weeds off the graves in The Scarlet Letter. That part of the book had always creeped him out and he counted on it now to do exactly the same thing. Hawthorne did not let him down. With reluctance, Justin felt the tingling in his spine start to let go.

He took a couple more breaths, relieved that the whole episode had gone undetected, and started walking toward the door. He was close enough to the other lifeguard now to read the initials on his name tag and to see the amused expression on his face.

“You going out on deck like that?”

Justin felt his face burn and he looked down slowly, fully expecting his body to have betrayed him again. But all he saw were the white briefs that the coach made the team wear to practice. When Justin looked up again, the other lifeguard smiled, then ran a finger of zinc oxide down the length of his own nose before turning back to the door.

“We're on the Wave Pool. Don't forget to clock in.”


Red Rock High wasn’t huge by any stretch of the imagination, but somehow Justin has missed JC Chasez. After three years at the same school, they’d never had a class together or ended up in detention on the same day or dated girls who were best friends. Though they went to the same school, they were, for all intents and purposes, complete strangers.

He and Jack had been strangers too, but Justin had had no trouble talking to Jack at all. In fact they'd fallen into a comfortable pattern. First, Justin would talk about practice. Then Jack would talk about the Lakers. After that, it was banter about work, mostly Jack complaining about still working weekends after five seasons at the park.

With JC, Justin had felt tongue-tied, and for the first hour, JC had done almost all of the talking, explaining each thing he did and why he did it. When he realized that Justin could already handle himself, he'd stopped talking altogether and they'd spent the next hour in silence. It was kind of cool, being in the tower without having to fill the air with words. Jack wouldn't have been able to do it, and Justin would probably have followed suit. But with JC, it was okay to stand side by side and say nothing at all.

The afternoon shift rotated at five. That meant clearing the pools for swim break. Most of the lifeguards took advantage of the time to cool off themselves. Justin had watched JC dive in, had seen his slim body disappear under the bridge that separated the main pool and the one used for wading. In another minute he heard the sounds of splashing and laughter that came from the chicken fights the guards at Salt Creek found so amusing. Jack had insisted that Justin be initiated, so he knew exactly what would happen if he went over there. He and JC would be paired up, stacked one on top of the other like a totem pole. For a minute, Justin was tempted. Then he remembered what had happened in the locker room, how his body had responded to JC. There was no way he'd survive being that close, not without making a complete fool of himself.

Justin let the image flood his brain for a minute, of JC gripping his legs, arms wound tightly around him, then swore softly to himself and started for the locker room. It wasn't until that moment that he realized what he'd considered doing, skipping the call he made to Lily each day. The call had become part of their routine once he started working and she would have been worried if she didn't hear from him. She'd have probably called his mom and then she'd have been worried too. It would have been more hassle than it was worth.

Even if floating in a pool with a stranger was suddenly more interesting than anything Lily could possibly have to say.

By Friday, Jack had still not returned and Justin found himself wishing that he would stay away forever. He'd had his first rescue and Justin knew in his heart that it would never have happened the way it did with anyone but JC.

The park had been unusually quiet, and the wave pool itself had been all but deserted. Aside from an older couple who had come down just to see how the waves worked, only two boys had used the lagoon at all. They'd looked almost too young to be in the area alone, and JC had stood up right away, letting them know that a lifeguard was on duty, but neither one wore the yellow wristbands that marked non-swimmers at the park, and JC had moved back into the shade of the umbrella once they settled into a game of frisbee on the sand.

Just before swim break, a small dog wandered onto the beach. Pets weren't allowed in the park, and if they'd been at any tower but this one, Justin would have fired up one of the hoses hidden in the landscaping and sent the dog on its way. But the wave pool was a different world. There was loose sand and small ornamental trees and using a high-pressure hose made no sense at all. The two boys had tried chasing the dog and it had run around in circles for a while, then had become disoriented and dashed into the surf just as the siren sounded warning of bigger waves to come.

Justin knew at once that the dog was in trouble. Within minutes, waves that had been rolling gently would start pounding as the metal plates on the far side of the pool generated a completely different kind of surf. JC was already on the phone to the office to shut down the generator and had waved at Justin to go in without him.

Justin was across the strand in three strides and dove into the surf like he was rescuing a child. He got to the dog right away, but it was badly frightened. It was small, but panic made it strong and almost impossible for Justin to hold on to. Just when he thought he might lose control, JC appeared out of nowhere, wrapping his arms around Justin and the struggling pup. His breath was warm on Justin's neck and he smiled up into his eyes as the first set of big waves crashed into them. Justin pulled the struggling animal close to his chest and JC tightened his grip. By then the boys on the beach were crying and another lifeguard was trying to keep them out of the water. They were almost to the beach when the last of the big waves knocked them both to their knees. Justin tossed the pup like a football and it raced up the sand and away before anyone could catch up with it.

Justin rolled onto his side, missing the arms that had been around him the minute they were gone. JC was on his knees, his back to the surfline. He sat back on his heels for a minute, letting the water splash against him, then got up and pulled Justin to his feet. The whistle for swim break sounded as they walked back up the beach. Justin had taken one look at the locker room, then followed JC to the showers by the cabana.

It was the first time he missed calling Lily from work. It would not be the last.

Two weeks later Jack was back, full of stories of fatherhood and diapers and sleepless nights and before long they had fallen back into their normal routine, Jack wondering if Bryant and O'Neal would ever make peace. Justin recapping a three-man tournament he'd seen on ESPN.

He'd been on his way to call Lily when he realized that the laughter and splashing that should have been coming from the wading pool had been replaced by a roar from the opposite direction. Justin turned toward the sound. From where he stood, it looked like everyone in the park was huddled around one of the juice bars. Another roar went up as he reached his locker. He let the phone ring twice, then closed it and walked towards the sound of cheering voices.

By the time Justin was in a position to see what was going on, nineteen french fries had been stacked, one on top of the other like a wall of Lincoln Logs. The Creek record was twenty and had stood for five full seasons. The most Justin had ever seen stacked without falling was nine and that had seemed ridiculously hard to do. Now there were twice that many and one of the senior lifeguards, a girl named Reese, was so excited that she'd promised to show everyone her boobs if the stack got to twenty-one. There were side bets, for and against. Jack had just sweetened one of the pots, tossing his whistle on the pile saying the wall would go down before the record was broken. Justin would have added his too if the person stacking the fries was anyone but JC. He could watch the pool for hours without moving anything but his head. And his fingers were long and thin, tailor-made for something like this. If anyone could break the record, JC was the one to do it.

Just being there to see a record broken was a big deal, but Justin was more interested in JC than anything else, in particular his reaction to Reese. She had sweetened the deal again by offering to let JC touch her nipples for luck before picking up the last fry. He'd winked at her and smiled, but his hand had never left the table. He said something under his breath that caused everyone near enough to hear to burst into laughter, but Justin was too far. The noise was deafening now and Justin barely heard the call for all lifeguards to get back on deck. Swim break was over, but JC still had a chance to at least tie the record. He'd just lifted his hand when the wall of potatoes suddenly folded in on itself, sending a wave of disappointment through the crowd. JC seemed unfazed by it, sweeping the pile of fries into the trash. He wiped his hand quickly, then pulled the lanyard to his own whistle back over his head, and turned suddenly, looking directly at Justin as if he'd known exactly where he was all along.

The intensity of the moment took Justin by surprise. Neither of them looked away and Justin felt his pulse start to race again. Then, from somewhere behind him, he heard Jack call his name. JC blinked, then picked up his glasses and walked toward Wonder Falls, the area of the park he'd been working since Fourth of July.

Justin had spent the rest of the day trying to decide if JC had deliberately brushed his arm as he walked away or if he had simply imagined the whole thing.

They worked three more shifts on the same days, busy weekends that meant almost everyone got overtime. At the end of each shift, Justin had walked as slowly as possible hoping to catch JC on the way out, but it never quite worked out that way. It seemed like they were always parked on opposite ends of the lot or he was lost in the sea of people all heading the same direction. Only once had Justin actually seen him walk out to his car. It was dark and he was a good twenty yards away, but Justin could have sworn that he saw JC slip on a pair of glasses. The idea sent Justin's imagination into overdrive. The sunglasses he'd worn all summer were probably prescription. And if he wore glasses to drive at night, he probably wore them at the movies. Justin walked up to his car, and stopped when he saw his own reflection. The thought of JC sneaking a pair of glasses on as the lights went down had put a smile on his face.

It was still there when he pulled into the driveway an hour later. He had planned to stop at Lily's, but instead he'd driven around listening to the radio and then had gone home. Alone.

And then, just as suddenly as it had all began, it was over. Summer league basketball meant Justin had to leave Salt Creek a full month before the park actually closed for the year. Ironically, there'd been only one other new hire the entire summer and JC had spent most of his time those last two weeks trying to bring Nick Carter up to speed. Nick was a college freshman and wasn't due back at school until late September, so he would be there to take Justin's place when he left. Justin had been given his own schedule just after the Fourth of July weekend, and though they'd been at the park on the same days, he was never really alone with JC again, not the way he had been those first few days.

He'd stopped by to pick up his last check on a Friday. Both Jack and Nick had been there, but JC was nowhere in sight. Since then, Justin's life had been nothing but basketball. There was practice everyday and a game every night and before he knew it, it was Labor Day weekend and school was starting. By the time he got the official word about the party at Salt Creek, he'd already decided not to go.

Lance had left two messages at his house. He'd worked at the Creek since he was fourteen, but he'd worked in what everyone called The Bone Yard, the shop where the tubes and rafts were repaired. The guys who worked in The Yard never really saw anyone else, so Lance had never really had much to say unless he was talking trash about the year-end party and which girl he wanted to nail this time around. As far as Justin knew, Lance Bass had never nailed anyone, so his tales of sex and underaged drinking had, over the years, been written off as just another extension of his constantly evolving fantasy life. When Lance stopped by again to remind Justin that the biggest night of the summer had finally arrived, Justin had waved him off, saying he had other plans. He was halfway home from practice when he suddenly changed his mind.

Justin hadn't been to the park in weeks, but the routine he'd followed all summer seemed to kick in automatically. He ran the stop sign where Salt Creek Drive t-boned Red Rock Highway and spun his wheels in the dirt as he turned onto the access road that led to the park. The walk across the dunes seemed familiar too, and as he passed the first tiki torch that lit the way, he saw that at least part of what Lance had said was true.

A small army of coolers stocked with beer and wine circled the bonfire and no one seemed to care who was drinking and who wasn't. Empty cans were bobbing in the surfline and people were running in and out of the wave pool, their clothes dripping wet. A girl that Justin recognized from the snack bar was keeping score in the sand. Justin stopped for a minute, trying to figure out how points were being earned, then he saw the first pair of shorts wash up on the beach. There was a burst of laughter as Reese splashed into the water and without even trying for one of the bobbing cans, started untying her top. She spotted Justin on the beach and pointed at him, shouting for someone to grab him. He had to run to keep from being tackled and dragged across the sand.

By eleven, he was mildly buzzed and had talked to just about everyone at least once, everyone, that is, except JC. No one had seen or heard from him that day though they were all sure he would be there. By midnight, Justin was yawning non-stop. His eyes watered and skin that had grown pale over the last month felt suddenly tight and raw. He'd already tossed the last of a warm beer into the trash and was shaking hands with Jack, when he heard JC's voice. He turned toward the sound of it and, for a minute, had a hard time finding him in the crowd.

The light from the bonfire had cast every face with shadows and the air itself was alive with it, snapping and crackling with a rhythm all its own. Jack must have known who it was that Justin was searching for because he gripped his shoulders suddenly, turning him clockwise until he was pointed directly at JC.

He'd had been gone less than a month, yet everything about JC looked different to him now. His hair had always been long, but now it looked almost wild, a dark halo streaked with gold. Justin had only ever seen him wear red and white, his eyes hidden behind dark glasses. Tonight he was all in black and his eyes danced with color, blues and greens that seemed to move and reposition themselves with the frenzy of a kaleidescope. He laughed suddenly, throwing his head back and Justin could only stare as the movement bathed his face with light. The group JC had been standing with broke open suddenly as Nick Carter threw a soft punch in his direction. JC curled away, spilling whatever had been in his cup. As he turned, shaking the liquid from his hand, he caught Justin's eye and smiled slowly, then motioned for him to wait before turning back away. Justin felt his head swim, then he looked quickly left and right, wanting to be sure that the look that had sent an unexpected wave of pleasure down his spine had truly been meant for him.

He'd walked the length of the dunes twice, pretending to talk on his phone. And then retraced the steps he would have taken to close up the park for the night. He'd wanted to keep moving. Justin had been to enough parties to know that the later it got, the more chance there was of being trapped by someone who suddenly wanted to tell their life story. It was selfish, but he wanted to be alone with JC, not share him with someone who'd had too much to drink. The noise level had dropped dramatically in the last few minutes and most of what filled the air now was the hum of the generator that fed waves to the pool. A sprinkler had come on, hissing and spurting, and Justin had felt himself jump.

When JC finally did touch his shoulder from behind, it had burned like a spark from the fire itself.

At that moment, Justin had never felt more alive. Or more lost.

They'd been sharing the top of one of the small picnic tables for almost an hour, watching the owners toss the last of the season's day passes into the fire when it finally happened. He'd thought that JC was leaning in to say something over the noise of the fire, but he never really spoke. When Justin turned to him, JC didn't move away. Instead, he leaned closer until his lips brushed Justin's, once, very gently. Warm breath crossed Justin's face on the way to his ear. The words that finally came were whispered, soft and low.

After that, the picture became unfocused like a jumbled, erotic dream.

They'd walked out past the stand of trees at the edge of Salt Creek and stood there silently, staring into the darkness, like characters in a silent movie. Then JC had started kissing him. That part wasn't like any movie Justin had ever seen. Nor was the kiss like any kiss he'd had before. JC's voice and lips were soft, but his kiss was rough. Justin had wanted to use his tongue, but he was afraid to do something wrong, something that might stop whatever this was from happening. JC seemed to need no map to find his way. Every spot he touched made Justin's body move. Justin moaned uncontrollably and JC pulled him closer, sinking his teeth into his lip until Justin pulled back in pain. JC had stared at him almost defiantly as if daring him to walk away. Justin had wiped at his mouth with his hand and when he found blood, had thrown himself at JC. At that moment, he'd wanted to tear him apart, to rip at his hair and his clothes. To do something, anything, to make his cock as hard as Justin's was. He was no virgin, but at that moment he felt like one. And not just that he'd never had sex, but that he didn't even know what it was like to be turned on, to want it, to forget about everything but the words pouring into his ear, telling him to beg. His cock was hard and he wanted to come, but not as much as much as he wanted to keep feeling this way. He'd tightened every muscle in his body, trying to hold on, Then JC had slipped a knee between his legs and Justin had forgotten that there was a world beyond the one spilling over him, the blinding light that came again and again and again.

He had no idea how long he'd been standing there, collapsed against JC, when he heard the voices. Seconds later, there was the flicker of a lighter and a smell of sweetness in the air. The party-goers who had migrated to the same secret spot looking for a safe place to mellow out were laughing now. JC made no move to hide, but Justin pulled away. He fumbled for a minute with his clothes, then ran his hands through his hair. When he started to walk away, JC reached for him and Justin felt his breath catch in his throat. All he could do was nod dumbly as he started again for the club house.

He stumbled once near the cabana and again by the wading pool, paths he had walked dozens of times before. Near the main gate, he ran into a group of people pounding on cow bells. The loud country music that had all but disappeared was blaring again and as Justin covered his ears, a firecracker went off somewhere in the park.

The party was still going strong, but Justin couldn't imagine going back to it now.

Or to the one at Beth Sugarman's that he had ditched to come here in the first place.

Or to Lily Evelyn Jessup.

Ever again.

-::-

By Wednesday, Lily had stopped crying.

She'd been thinking, she said, about the moment at the dance when they announced the new queen. If by some chance she won, she wanted Justin to be there with her, to finish what they'd started.

To finish what they'd started.

The words had been perfect, perfect enough that Justin had said yes. He just hadn't been thinking about Lily when he said it.

-;;-

The Homecoming assembly at Red Rock High was the noisiest place on earth.

Justin dropped his backpack by the stairs, then walked to the cement railing and just watched for a minute.The time they'd spent decorating the gym had really paid off. The cheerleaders had done their job, making sure that each of the classes had a good shot at winning the class competition, but the Eiffel Tower and the senior wall was what everyone was talking about.

Justin hadn't paid much attention on Sunday, but now he could see just how spectacular it was. Lining up the delicate drawings had been a lot harder than he'd expected and more than once he'd wanted to quit. His heart had not been in it and he could have easily made a mess of things, but he hadn't. Maybe Lily would see it that way too and forgive him for breaking her heart.

He'd never meant to hurt anyone. Or to spoil something as important as this.

The band started up again and Justin felt the energy level in the gym spike. He'd been to every pep rally at school since freshman year. Some had meant more than others, but today, when the crowd picked up the chant, 'Red Rock forever, Rangers are forever', he suddenly felt it, his connection to this place, to everything that had happened there.

He'd been to the emergency room more times than he could count as a kid, but he had broken only one bone in his life and it had happened here, in this gym, during a game his freshman year. He'd said nothing to the coach about it, afraid he'd be taken out of the line-up, then had worn a cast on his hand for months afterwards because of it. Chris had jumped off the very railing where Justin stood now, trying to pay off a bet he'd made with Joey Fatone sophomore year. He'd wound up in a cast too and Justin had kept his secret when Chris said he'd slipped near the water fountain like Justin had the year before. He had walked into this gym every day for the last four years and never thought that one day, it would all just end, that there would be a last game, last day in the locker room, last team banquet, last assembly with the band playing a fight song he knew by heart but never sang anymore because it wasn't cool to do it. Suddenly Justin felt overwhelmed and had to look away, blinking back tears that had come out of nowhere.

The bleachers were almost full now and he did a quick sweep of the floor making sure that he'd still be able to see if he stayed where he was. Three football players were huddled at mid-court. They looked nervous, pulling at their jerseys and tossing the game ball from last year's win over Newland back and forth a little too quickly. It was weird seeing them that way. The team captains spoke at almost every assembly. They were always pumped up, but they were cool about it. Today they weren't being cool at all. They were acting like giddy freshmen because this was something different. This was Senior Homecoming, the last time they would ever be together like this, kings of a very small kingdom, on the last day of their reign.

One of the captains left the others and walked toward a row of chairs that had been set up on the free throw line. He was intercepted midway by a girl with a blindfold as two other senior boys were being herded reluctantly across the floor. One was a cross country runner that Justin knew only because he'd beaten Chris's best time earlier in the season. The other had his back to Justin and was fielding catcalls from the stands, refusing to sit down, until the water polo coach pointed at the chair and nodded sharply toward it.

Justin put the dark curly hair and familar black t-shirt together just as the gym exploded.

The Homecoming Court had appeared. The girls waved and smiled. Then, in the same way it had been done every year since Red Rock opened its doors, they came down the stairs together, then walked the length of the basketball court as one. It was a tightly choreographed routine and Justin had always wondered why they did it the same way, year after year. It was tradition and he understood that part of it, but even the music was the same. Chris had joked once that he could do the whole thing himself, blindfolded, in a pair of his sister's high heels. He couldn't. That was how he'd ended up on the railing and in a cast. Justin didn't remember much about this part of the assembly except that it had always seemed corny and predictable and a complete waste of a good song, but today when the opening notes of Killer Queen hit the PA system, he'd felt the hair on his arms stand on end.

Lily was radiant and for a minute Justin's heart ached. He'd almost spoiled this day for her. It still wasn't perfect, and that was his fault, but there was nothing he could do about it now. He would be there for her at the dance, be the best date he could possibly be, then they would go their separate ways. But he would make sure that she remembered this day and that night long after the Chris Kirkpatricks and Joey Fatones of the world had forgotten all about it.

The song ended and the girls waved to the crowd one last time. Justin looked at Lily, then back at the row of chairs where the blindfolded athletes were waiting. The nostalgia and melancholy he'd been feeling drained out of him and his unguarded response was out before he could stop it.

"No fucking way."

Almost at once, another voice echoed in response.

"Nice talk, young man."

The voice seemed to come out of thin air and Justin felt his heart skip a beat. It was loud in the gym and the words could have been meant for anyone. As much as he wanted to see who it was that was talking, turning around seemed like a bad idea. If it was a teacher, he was dead already. There was zero tolerance for profanity at Red Rock and he would get an hour scraping gum off of lockers whether he turned around or not, so he just stayed completely still. When Lance elbowed in next to him, he never even noticed.

He'd been too distracted to care anyway.

It was the same skit Justin had seen in years past. Two of the seniors sitting at the free throw line would be kissed irreverently by members of the marching band or teammates who had volunteered to be part of the game. Only one would be kissed by a princess. For those who guessed right, male or female, there was a paper crown and dinner for two at a pricey restaurant in town. For those guessed wrong, there was laughter and a coupon for the burger joint out on the highway. Justin forced himself to breathe as he watched Mrs. Gordon rearrange the students like objects in a shell game until Lily Jessup stood directly behind JC.

The irony of the moment was not lost on Justin, but as he watched Amy Sugarman help Lily tie back her long dark hair, he felt strangely calm. As pretty as she was, Lily Jessup was no threat to him. And neither was Amy Sugarman. None of them were because they were all the same. They knew nothing. About anything.

Especially him.

About him, they had known nothing at all.



The summer that Lily's parents had taken her to Hawaii, Justin had not spent much time alone. There'd been a handfull of stolen kisses, but only two real dates. When Lily found out, she'd stood in his driveway and cried, and for a week or so, Justin Timberlake had been on his own. But the separation hadn't lasted long. By the time school started, they were together again.

But there had been no honesty, no moment of truth.

Lily had not asked and Justin would never have told her, but he'd kissed each of those girls exactly the way that he'd always kissed her, the way they had wanted him to. Even in the backseat of his car, in the parking lot of the Dairy Queen, with girls he would never see again, it had never once been about him, what he wanted or needed.

Then one night he had learned with stunning clarity exactly what that was.

JC had not just kissed him. He had touched him, slipped an arm around his waist, then run a warm hand down the length of Justin's cock. Justin had pushed himself into it, but JC had taken his hand away, then pressed the whole of his body against Justin until he saw stars. He'd been hard already and would have come just from the thrill of it, but there was more, so much more. The JC who'd been silent most of the summer had started talking, breathing words into Justin's ear so dark and raw that his mind had shattered like glass.

After that, everything else had simply faded away.

His relationship with Lily Jessup. Being a boyfriend who knew his place.

All of it.

Faded away.



The crowd around him had swelled and suddenly Justin couldn't see the line of chairs anymore. He gave up his spot at the rail and walked towards the locker room until he found an open area. By that time, the tuba player had already kissed the captain of the football team and Chris's rival was blushing at the sight of one of his own teammates who was helping him with his blindfold. He was watching Lily lean down when he felt a strong hand on his arm. This time Justin turned back, fully expecting the dean or at least one of his henchman to be waiting for him. Instead, Lance tossed him his backpack and nodded toward the door. In another minute the assembly would be over and 2000 people would be pouring up the stairs. Justin took one look back at JC who was already being crowned, then followed Lance out the door.

The sound of the fight song faded as they rounded the Fine Arts building. Lance stopped at the food court, but Justin kept walking as if in a daze. Lance caught up with him again outside of the student store. He dropped his own backpack on the ground, then struggled with the pop top on a can of root beer as he spoke.

"Did you check out Sugarman? She so wanted to kiss Chasez." He took a long sip from the can, then looked past Justin into the quad. "She's in for a wake-up call if she thinks she can keep up with him though. Maybe both of the Sugarman twins together, but not just one of them."

Justin felt tiny beads of sweat gather on his forehead and he quickly checked Lance out of the corner of his eye. Lance was looking his way now, but not watching him, not like he would have been if he was setting him up for something. It had never occurred to Justin until that moment that any of his friends at Red Rock knew JC at all, at least not well enough to say something like that. Lance was a Salt Creek guy, but most of what he knew was secondhand and Justin couldn't remember ever seeing him talk to JC at all, at the park or anywhere else. He had finally convinced himself that Lance was just talking, not fishing, when Lance dropped the bomb.

"Chasez was a bad choice for that skit anyway." He looked at Justin for confirmation and when there was no response, pointed at him again. "You know, the initiation thing at Salt Creek."

When Justin shrugged, Lance shook his head.

"C'mon Timberlake. I know it's supposed to be a deep, dark lifeguard secret, but everybody at the park knows about it. Anyway, summer before last, Chasez kicked some serious ass. He somehow found out that he was going to get it, that Nate Christiansen had marked him the day he was hired. But instead of waiting for the whole thing to go down, for Nate to plant the big one, Chasez turned the tables on him and took care of it himself, right in front of everybody."

Justin wrinkled his brow, and Lance studied him for a moment.

"You heard about this. I know you did. Jack would have told you."

Lance waved him off, like he was sure Justin was pulling his leg, then went on.

"Well anyway, no secret bonding ritual this time around. Chasez pushed Christiansen up against the wall over by the showers and kissed him hard on the mouth, then walked away. Boom. Just like that, it was over. The best part was that Nate never saw it coming. It wasn't even Fourth of July yet. I'm not even sure that Chasez was off probation."

Lance lifted his can in a kind of mock tribute, then finished it off.

"It took balls to do it. That's for sure. Today was nothing compared to what he did at Salt Creek. The guy's a legend."

Justin nodded, barely able to quiet the noise in his head. Tiny spheres of light swam before his eyes and for a minute he thought that he might pass out. He knew what was coming before Lance had a chance to get the words out. He wanted to walk away, but his feet wouldn't listen.

"Anyway, this year it was his turn. He was supposed to pass it on, pick one of the new hires and lay one on him. We all figured that he nailed Carter off-shift because nobody ever said anything about it. I saw Reese at the mall just after school started. She said that the deed had definitely been done, but who knows." Lance shrugged and reached for his backpack. "Chasez could have lied about it, but I doubt it. Besides, who's going to lie about something like that? It's tradition and besides, it's too easy to check out."

A balled-up popcorn bag hit the side of the trash can and fell at Justin's feet. He stared at it for a minute before realizing what it was. Lance scooped up the bag and tossed it back to Joey. He looked at Justin again and shook his head.

"Fucking lifeguards are freaks. Makes me glad I ended up in the Bone Yard."

Lance turned away and Justin looked back toward the gym. There was a steady stream of people filling the quad now which meant that the assembly was finally over. He still had a few minutes before Trace arrived wanting his lab notes for physics and before Lily appeared at his side, slipping her hand into his like she'd done so many times before. She hadn't stopped doing any of the things that said they were together and Justin had not had the heart to say anything about it.

He looked quickly at the group of people who'd just entered the food court. Neither Lily nor Trace was among them, but they would be there any minute. That meant that JC and his friends would be there too. He needed to disappear and he needed to do it fast.

Justin pulled a notebook out of his backpack and shoved it at Lance.

"Can you give this to Trace? I can't be late to Deal's class again or I'll end up in detention."

He walked away without waiting for Lance to reply. By the time the bell rang for fourth period, Justin was halfway across the parking lot, headed for his car.

~

He'd cut three classes, but none of the coaches had said anything about it and if any of his teammates knew, none of them said anything either. After practice, Justin waited until the last of them had left the locker room before he left the floor. His free-throw percentage had been down at the end of last season, so no one asked any questions when he wanted to stay and shoot for a while. The foul line had always been a tough place for hm. It wasn't the pressure of the moment so much as the interruption of the game itself, the flow of it. He'd never gotten used to stopping and standing around, then having to spool things up again. He resented it and it showed in his stats. Putting in more time at practice wasn't going to change the numbers all that much, but he did it anyway. When the season opened and he missed that first shot, he'd know that he'd done everything he could to make it work.

Some things just weren't in his nature and never would be, no matter how hard he tried.

He took one last shot. The ball nipped the rim and fell short. Instead of rebounding it, Justin let it bounce wildly, then roll across the floor until it settled against the bleachers. He was still standing there, staring at it, when two wrestlers jogged through his field of vision, headed for the stairs. It was hard to tell how long he'd been there, but the sweat on his skin had cooled and his practice jersey felt damp and clammy.

He took one last look at the backboard, then scooped up the ball and walked to the locker room.

-::-

There'd been no official practice since Wednesday. Decorations for the dance were a closely-guarded secret, so the gym and locker rooms were out-of-bounds. The weight room was still open, but most of it had been commandeered as a storage area for cases of soda and racks of folding chairs. At this time last year, with the gym closed, Justin would have gone to Powerhouse without giving it a second thought. There was no way that he could do that now.

It wasn't bad enough that Justin had kissed him back instead of pushing him away like he was supposed to, it looked now like JC felt sorry for him. Instead of crowing about taking Justin down, making a man out of him, he'd said nothing about the initiation at all. That had made it even worse. Once Nick Carter came home for Christmas break, all hell would break loose. Someone would say something to Nick and of course he would deny it. Then the process of elimination would begin. Carter wouldn't give up until he knew exactly what had gone down and with whom. Justin had until then to straighten things out. That meant talking to JC. Justin knew that eventually he would have to face him. But he needed time to figure out what to say, especially now. Now that he knew the truth.

There had been no helpless passion, not even lust. It was all part of a game, something to prove that being a lifeguard at a water park made him a man. And now Justin had to play along with it, pretend that it had meant nothing to him either, to somehow get through it without looking like a complete fool.

He was done with Salt Creek. It had been a great summer job, but he'd had no plans to go back, so that part of it was over. He would never see any of those people again, but he would see Lance and at some point, JC. And sooner or later he would have to deal with what had happened.

But he wasn't ready to do that, at least not yet because it was Friday, and he was suddenly Lily Jessup's boyfriend again. And by six o'clock he had to pick up the pieces that were left of what he had once been to her and put them back together, one last time.

~

They'd picked up their tuxes and were halfway through the car wash when Chris announced, as he had before every other formal dance they'd ever been to, that he was too hungry to wait for dinner at whatever fancy restaurant they had reservations for that night. They would have to drive through BurgerTown.

They'd been eating in silence when Justin dropped part of his burger on the seat, then tried to apologize for the mark it left on the upholstery. Chris had studied him for a moment, then pointed at one of the other, bigger stains on the seat and wiggled his eyebrows lasciviously. He didn't have to say anything. Justin had heard the story of its origin before, at least the one that Chris had made up for it. For the first time in days, Justin let himself smile. Chris had always known how to get to him, even when it felt like there was nothing left inside him for Chris to get to.

Chris was well into the story of the broken zipper on Lance's baby blue tuxedo when they pulled into Justin's driveway at five. It was later than he had planned, but he felt like he could make it now, that his friends would be there with him, that this night could be something that not just Lily would remember.

He was in the shower by 5:15, at the restaurant by seven, and the dance at nine.

He was holding Lily's hand when they called her name.

At that moment, Justin knew that no matter what happened tomorrow, he was where he was supposed to be tonight, being Lily Jessup's long-time boyfriend, on the most important night of her life.

-::-

The phone had started ringing at six. A call that early meant only one thing. Lance needed a ride to school. No one else had a first period or the kind of recurring car problems that Lance did. Justin didn't mind giving anyone a ride, but with Lance it meant getting to school an hour earlier than he had to. And on a day when Justin hadn't planned to go to school at all, it was wrong in more ways than he could count.

His ankle wasn't sprained, but it was too tender to practice and the coach had told him to stay off it as much as possible. That didn't mean stay home, but that's what Justin had planned to do. Mid-terms were over. He wanted to sleep in and then shoot around in the driveway and see how it felt.

But that was before the phone started ringing.

He'd thought briefly about ignoring it, but no one else would pick up either and Lance was relentless. Justin might not have missed a day all semester, but Lance had never missed a day in four years. He was on the perfect attendance track for graduation. He would keep calling until someone picked up, which meant Justin's phone would keep ringing, so he'd rolled out without showering and was now hunkered down in the front seat of his car in the parking lot at school, trying to fall back to sleep until someone walked by and woke him in time for class. It was just after seven. He had at least forty-five minutes before anyone would bother to tap on the glass.

He'd just turned toward the window, trying find a more comfortable spot, when someone walked between the rows of cars and stopped, blocking the sun that Justin had been counting on to help him fall back to sleep. If it had been a scene from the chick flick that Chris was still complaining about months later, the love of his life would have been standing next to Justin's car, staring down at him as he slept. It wasn't that movie, but it was JC Chasez, standing by his own car, shaking his head the way swimmers do who have an ear full of water.

It had been weeks since Justin had thought about him. Nick Carter had come home twice and neither time had he knocked on Justin's door, looking to knock out his front teeth. If he'd heard the rumors from Salt Creek, he either cared nothing about them or for some reason, saw the whole thing as some kind of status symbol. Being a lifeguard at the park had meant nothing to Justin, but not everyone felt that way. Lance had made lifeguard lore his business and people like Jack came back year after year, even after they'd outgrown working there. Justin had never thought to question what it was that brought people back or fueled their need to be part of it. All he knew was that Nick Carter had wanted a place in park history. It had been Justin's salvation.

JC must have come right from the pool because his hair was wet and he had a towel, not a backpack, on his shoulder. Justin felt a lump in his throat as he remembered the first time he had seen him. In the locker room at Salt Creek. A t-shirt and shorts. A towel thrown carelessly over his shoulder. He was wearing his hair shorter now, but it was still longer than any of Justin's crowd. He shook his head again, then ran both hands through his hair. It had been a long time since Justin had seen him do it. He hadn't even known that the image was burned in his brain until he saw it again and more than just his head remembered. Despite everything that had happened, seeing JC like this went straight to his spine. He couldn't have slept now if he tried.

JC had opened the trunk of his car and now Justin caught only brief glimpses of him as he moved between the back of the car and the driver's side door. The morning sun played tricks as he bent over the front seat, disappearing from sight. It was, for a moment, as if Justin's imagination had simply placed him there, like a beautiful paper doll, then had suddenly taken him away.

JC he stood up again, filling the frame, and Justin felt his pulse start to race. It was like something out of a dream. JC wasn't stopping to dry his hair or to get his backpack out of his car.

He was changing his clothes, right where Justin could see him.

Justin knew that he should look away, but he couldn't help himself. JC had already pulled the grey sweatshirt he'd been wearing over his head and for a minute Justin could see bare shoulders and the muscles in his back. He hadn't seen JC's body in a very long time and he cursed himself now for all the time he'd wasted. He'd been at the park for six weeks and for most of that time, JC had been there too, not right next to him or even in plain sight, but he had been there and Justin hadn't looked at him nearly enough. Even if he had, he wouldn't have seen this part of him. Unlike the people who came to Salt Creek to worship the sun, the lifeguards there tried to stay out it. They wore hats and sun block and shirts, the kind of shirts that covered everything Justin was looking at now.

His arms had always been a marvel, but it was his skin that Justin could not get enough of. It was smooth and even, with none of the freckles that covered his own shoulders. There were no marks of any kind, anywhere. No tattoos or signs of piercing, none of the things he'd once imagined.

JC lifted one arm over his head, rotating the shoulder like it bothered him. It was obviously sore, but the way he moved was so slow and seductive that for a moment Justin wondered if he knew he was being watched. His nonchalance was intoxicating and Justin felt his body respond to him again. When he stepped from behind the car, a pair of black jeans slung low on his hips, Justin could see that his tan had not faded, and he wondered if JC spent his winter weekends at the beach now, with the other lifeguards from Salt Creek.

There was so much about him that Justin didn't know, that he would never know. He had thought that he'd gotten used to the idea, that he was past the point of wanting him. He knew now that that was a lie. He still felt foolish about what had happened, but he had never been sorry. He would do it again if he had the chance. JC was beautiful, and dressed or undressed, Justin wanted to touch him again, but that wasn't going to happen. Not outside the world of Salt Creek and its ancient rituals. And he wasn't going back there, ever, so there was no use thinking about it.

His breath had clouded the windows of the car, but when JC turned in his direction, Justin slumped down anyway. He counted slowly to ten, then looked at the black Mustang again. JC had already closed up the car and pulled a backpack over his shoulder. He was patting himself down, looking for something as he started up the hill that led to the quad.

Justin waited until he was a safe distance away, then started his car. The defroster was slow to clear the windshield and as he waited, Justin toyed with the idea of leaving a note for him, but before he could find a scrap of paper to write on, he stopped himself. He'd written pages of useless prose since that night at Salt Creek and had never once found the words to say what he wanted to say. Nothing had happened to change that.

-::-

The French Club trip to Paris was open to everyone, so Trace had signed up and Joey Fatone who wasn't sure he even knew where France was, and of course Lance who was the one who had talked Joey into going in the first place. Even Chris, who'd sworn he would never spend the money he'd been saving for a muscle car to watch guys in berets eat pastry, had, in the end, made the deposit by the November deadline. It was a senior thing, he said, a tradition, something they should all be doing together. And he was right. Every one of Justin's friends was going, including Lily who seemed to be taking it the hardest that Justin would be staying home alone.

He'd known all along that he wouldn't be going and it had nothing to do with money. It was late February and Justin still had some left from the summer at Salt Creek and his parents would have helped him if he'd asked, but the trip had never really been in his plans. League play-offs in basketball and the French Club trip to Paris were always, always at exactly the same time.

Except for this year.

This year none of that had mattered. Red Rock had lost two of their first league games on shots at the buzzer and after that, things just seemed to fall apart. The ankle that had bothered Justin early on had kept him on the bench for more than half of the season, so there was no All-Star game to worry about this year either.

But there were passports and tickets and parent permission slips.

By the time Justin knew that he could go, it was too late to do anything about it.

~

The postcards started on a Friday.

Justin had almost thrown the first one away. It had looked like an ad from one of the fancy stores in the mall. The card had slipped out of his hand and landed on the floor. When he’d leaned down to pick it up, his heart had skipped a beat. The writing was familiar, but the message--the message made no sense at all..

Justin had felt his face flush and he'd stood back up without touching it. Six months ago he had plastered a carefully drawn replica of the Eiffel Tower on the wall of the school gym. Now there was a postcard on his kitchen floor, with a picture of the real thing, postmarked Paris, France.

And in the perfect French that only Lily would have thought to use, a message.

Il vous attend.

Justin read the message twice, then put the postcard down and walked to his computer and typed it into a language tool. The translation was awkward but there was no mistaking what it said.

For you he waits.

Justin sat back in his chair and stared at the words, transposing them again in his head, but there was no error. It said exactly what he thought it said.

In the end, there were seven of them, one card for each day they had spent in the City of Lights, each with exactly the same message.

He's waiting for you.

~

Trace was the first one off the plane and he had met Justin's smile with an obnoxious yawn before pulling him down the concourse away from everyone else. Justin had craned his neck, looking for Lily. He wanted so much to talk to her. He still had no idea what she knew or what she'd been trying to tell him, but he did know her. And that she loved him. She would never do anything to hurt him, no matter how much she'd been hurt herself.

Trace had started babbling, then had stopped suddenly and been uncharacteristically quiet until they reached the escalator that went down to baggage claim. At the top of the moving stairway, he checked over his shoulder twice, then let out a long sigh like the weight of the world was on him. Suddenly Justin felt like he was back at Red Rock High, hiding in the bushes by the science building. Trace was, once again, the indignant best friend.

"Treacherous creatures," he said. "Turn your back for a minute and they cut your heart out."

Justin tried hard not to laugh. This was Trace at his most earnest and he would not be denied. It wasn't the time or the place, but Justin had promised himself that before graduation, he would tell him just how much their friendship had always meant to him. At this moment all Trace Ayala wanted was blood. He was off to the races again, hands flying in the air, irate than anyone would take advantage of his best friend.

He knew, he said, that things weren't what they used to be, but in his mind, Lily was still Justin's girl and Trace wasn't going to let Justin be played again. Not even in Paris, France. Justin had started to interrupt when it suddenly occurred to him what Trace was going to say, why he had felt such deja vu. Lily Jessup was finally laughing again. Only this time it wasn't with the new guy in Biology. It was with someone Justin already knew, someone whom fate and Madame Broussard's seating chart had put side by side on the flight out of JFK.

He didn't know why he hadn't thought of it before. If all of Justin's friends were going on the French trip to Paris, then JC and all of his friends would have been going too. It was a senior thing after all, something they would all do together.

For a moment, Justin closed his eyes as Trace described the outrageous shenanigans he had seen. Justin knew in his heart that it hadn't been like that all. Lily with her shy grace would have won JC over well before before they landed at Charles DeGaulle. What had happened after that was something that Justin would probably never know. Lily and JC, both so genuine, would eventually have discovered what it was they had in common, who it was, and from there-- well, Justin could only imagine.

He was standing at the luggage carousel when Lily appeared at the top of the escalator. She was not alone. This time when Justin felt a bead of sweat escape down his back, he did not turn and run. He looked first at Lily and waited for her to smile. When she did, Justin nodded very slightly and she nodded back. It was the first time in all the years he'd known her that he felt like she really understood. Who he was, why this was right for him.

At the bottom of the escalator, Lily looked back at JC and then walked away. For a moment JC hesitated, then he looked up at Justin and smiled. It was a moment that Justin knew he would remember for the rest of his life.

-::-

If JC had looked otherworldly on that last night at Salt Creek, tonight, he was a god. Justin had never wanted anything more in his life.

"You want to come in?"

JC shrugged shyly, then looked at Justin and smiled.

"I thought we might shoot some pool."

Justin nodded, then scooped up the cardboard crown he'd dug out of the closet , the one they'd put on his head months and months ago to make a pretend king for Queen Lily at the dance. He'd always meant to throw it away. Now it was in his hand and he wasn't even sure why. She had never said it aloud, but Justin had always known how much Lily Jessup had wanted to be Homecoming Queen. He'd wanted it for her too. He had also wanted something for himself, something that really mattered. Now both wishes had been granted and in ways even a dreamer like Justin could never have imagined.

The black mustang in the driveway was the same one that Justin had seen at Salt Creek, and at the gym on North Darbury, and in the parking lot at school, but tonight it looked different. It had obviously been washed and waxed. The wheels were spotless and the windows gleamed like they'd been been polished with stars.

Justin looked at JC, then back at the car and felt suddenly overwhelmed.

As they backed out of the driveway, he had a sudden flash of Lily, how at that exact moment, she would have taken his hand and held it in her lap. It had always seemed so methodical, something she did more out of habit than anything else.

Tonight Justin knew that it was much more than that, what it was she had been telling him by doing it. How much he had meant to her, how right it all was at that moment.

Justin looked at his reflection in the windshield, then at JC's. There would probably be no handholding tonight, but still it felt so right, the two of them, driving off into the darkness, certain only that they were exactly where they wanted to be.

When JC rolled through the stop sign at Stanhope, Justin looked over at him again and smiled.

He'd never stopped for that one either.



By the time they passed the Dairy Queen on State Street, Justin had slipped the cardboard crown on his head and was singing along to a song on the radio, like this was just another night, cruising the streets of Red Rock with the windows down and the music up.

But it wasn't just another night. And as he breathed in the cool night air, Justin promised to always remember just how special it was, how right it all felt.

Finally and undeniably right.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________